Thunder
by Goalie Queen
Summary: How could this happen to me? Oneshot maybe.


Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs.

Inspired by: Untitled (How could this happen to me?) by Simple Plan… both the song and the video… Look it up.

"Donnie, are you sure we shouldn't pull over?" Charlie's worried voice penetrated the silence. Well, not true silence: the pounding rain made it difficult to hear.

"We'll be fine. I can't be late to work. Wright would kill me." Don saw Charlie smirk out of the corner of his eye.

There was a flash of lightning. The thunder that followed rumbled so loudly that Charlie covered his ears. It was raining so hard that Don could barely see out the front of the SUV. There were some headlights in front of him, but otherwise the road was empty. The general public was too smart to go out in a rainstorm like this.

"I'm sure Wright would understand!" Charlie yelled, scooting farther back into his seat, clutching the seat belt. "This is scary."

In the split second that Don turned to rebuke Charlie, the car to their left lost control. Don hadn't even noticed it before. But the screeching noise tipped him off and he tried unsuccessfully to pull onto the shoulder. Before he could, there was a horrible noise that sounded like the rumbling thunder that had scared Charlie as the two large vehicles collided. Don slammed on the breaks, but they inevitably kept moving. They hit something else and finally stopped.

Charlie looked at Don. His head was resting back on the seat and his whole face was covered in blood. The rain continued as Charlie sat, staring at Don. His mind turned on again at the next clap of thunder. He slowly opened the door, hyper aware of a large cut on his own forehead that was bleeding into his eye. He just shut his eye and stepped out into the rain. He then climbed back into the car and pried Don out of the seatbelt that had failed to protect him. It took Charlie a while; it was as if he was moving in slow motion. "It's okay, Donnie. I've got you." He whispered to his unconscious brother. He struggled with the weight, and finally pulled Don out of the car, only to fall onto backward the muddy grass beside the car with Don on top of him. Charlie grunted, now aware of a more central pain in his chest. He maneuvered Don off of him. The rain made it hard to see, but Charlie just sat with Don, looking up at the almost black sky, raindrops falling into his eyes. He was unsure of what to do. His mind was clouded, there were just the numbers.

Charlie didn't know how long it had been before someone approached him. He was lying next to his brother, eyes wide open, staring up when he heard a familiar voice shouting. Colby materialized and kneeled next to Don. "Don?" he heard Colby say.

"Charlie?" Colby's face came into view but Charlie found he couldn't speak. His voice was caught in his throat. "We've got the paramedics coming. You're gonna be okay, man."

The next few minutes were a blur. Colby talked to Charlie, trying to keep him awake but he wasn't tired. He was vaguely aware of David's voice in the distance. He closed his eyes every once and a while, only to open them when Colby shook his shoulders. The numbers were like caffeine, they kept running through his head, keeping him very much alive.

The sirens were loud and hurt Charlie's ears but he made no movement. He simply sat, waiting. There was some poking and prodding, and Charlie let a whimper escape when the medic found his ribs. "Hey, Charlie. You're okay. It's gonna be alright." It was David's voice now. He felt multiple pairs of hands on him. After a few moments, they took Don away on a stretcher, and that's when Charlie freaked out.

"Don! No! Don! You can't take him!" Charlie stood too fast and almost fell. Someone got their arms around him, trying to be gentle but still squeezing his sensitive bones. He began to sob, killing his ribs, but he didn't care. They couldn't take Don. "No!" And then the more hands were restraining him. He tried to calm down but couldn't. His breathing became fast and hard. Colby was frantically trying to calm him now. Charlie tried to escape, but his struggling exhausted him. Finally, he fell limp in the paramedic's grasp, his sobs wracking his weak body.

They got him on a stretcher and sedated him, sticking an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. He struggled to stay awake. They wheeled him slowly under some cover where the pouring rain was no longer attacking them. He was vaguely aware of seeing Don and wanted to move, wanted to go to him. Then he saw the paddles. They were using the defibrillators.

Don's shirt was removed, revealing his strong muscles cut up and bruised already. His eyes were closed still. Charlie once again began to hyperventilate. He tried sitting up, but restraints kept him down.

Don's lifeless body was jerked upward, toward the metal paddles. The paramedic shook his head and tried again. Charlie lived to see the third shock, when his own paramedic noticed his attempts at escape. He felt the intrusive pain of a needle and the last thing he was aware of was Don before his world went black.


End file.
